The Other F-Word (16 page)

“Give me all of you, please,” he whispered with an anguish I wasn’t prepared for.

“I’m all yours,” I replied breathlessly.

“I hope so.”

I heard the zipper of my sweatshirt come down before I even realised where his fingers were. He discarded it in one fluid motion. His powerful hands, insistent and intense, roamed up my waist, across my chest. “Just perfect,” he said, cupping my breasts through my bra.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s padded,” I responded.

He chuckled, but his face turned serious when he pulled my hand to his cock. “This isn’t.” He was hard and long and thick. And wow.

“I can see that, or rather, I can feel it.”

I yanked on his shirt until he pulled it off. I ran my fingers down his tight abs and over that intricate tattoo. I ran my tongue over his neck, tasting the saltiness of his flesh and feeling the slick glisten of both our bodies. He smelt so good…but then I wondered if I did.

“I should take a shower,” I said.

“We’re gonna get a hell of a lot dirtier before we clean up, baby.” He cupped my ass, slowly squeezing it before suddenly lifting me off the ground.

I situated myself against his hips, crossing my legs around him in a hard vice-grip. I buried my face in his neck, kicking my shoes off as he carried me.

“Ouch,” I said when my back grazed a wall.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just watch where you’re going.”

His hand slid down my back, stroking the area. “I’ll make it all better. I promise.”

He flung me on the bed. I crooked my elbows, watching his slow, predatory path as he climbed onto the mattress. Damien brought his lips to my neck while his hands wandered over my breasts, pausing at the clasp of my bra. His arm slid underneath me and he rolled us over so I was on top of him. The moment was so surreal, I even heard music. Wait there was music. Shakira’s
Hips Don’t Lie
was surrounding us.
What the hell?

“My iPod turned on,” he said, reaching into his pocket. The song was already seducing me.

“Leave it,” I gasped. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s my new favourite song.”

His sweet lips continued to tease my body. He practically ripped my bra, flinging it across the room. Damien’s tongue grazed my one swollen nipple while his hand massaged the other. I arched my back, pushing myself into him.

“Jessie, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against my skin.

I closed my eyes tightly. Had he just said that? His body was perfect. Mine was scarred, aged and a bit battered from childbirth, accidents and general use. Was he looking through rose-coloured glasses?

He hooked his fingers into the sides of my shorts, underneath the waistband of my panties. He pulled them down slowly, staring at my naked, writhing body. His thumb rubbed over the tattoo on my hip. “Most people have stickers. You’re a very dedicated Deadhead.” He smiled at the tiny, slightly psychedelic, dancing pink teddy bear that was the Grateful Dead’s symbol. “I was never a fan, then again, I never thought a teddy bear could be so damn sexy either.” He kissed the area, sending me into convulsions. His touch and kiss had kidnapped my voice so I moaned in response.

Then he stood and in one swift move removed his shorts and boxers. I leisurely perused his substantial assets, lingering in certain areas. He was doing the same thing to me and I would have thought the experience of a man staring at my naked body embarrassing, but Damien’s expression of lust and appreciation made it easy.

The man was sculpted flesh and muscle. He looked unrealistically beautiful—like a photo in a glossy magazine. The broadness of his chest, the tight compact six—or maybe eight—pack, made my mouth go dry. I lowered my gaze to the seductive V—the two shallow grooves right above a man’s hips that narrowed into a perfect V on some men. Most men didn’t have it, but Damien did. In art history, they called it the Illiac Furrow and in body building, they called it Apollo’s Belt. I called it the Sex Vex. They were the muscles a man used most during intercourse and his looked like they had been cut by a laser beam. I lowered my eyes, and my swallow turned into a gulp as I stared at the one body part there were a million colourful words for.

“Your pseudonym fits you.”

“Let’s see how I fit you.”

He crawled up my body much like a predator staking his claim and, my God, I felt every inch of his advance as his heavy cock grazed my skin.

“Touch me,” he said.

I trailed my hand along his chest. He clutched my wrist and moved it down his body and I grasped his cock. I curled my hand around it, enjoying his appreciative groan.

My eyes widened as I felt him lengthen in my hand.

Shit.

His fingers trailed down my body then he inserted one into my wet sex and I screamed out at the shock of it. He eased another two fingers into me while his thumb rubbed my clit. He was relentless in his exploration and he nibbled on my earlobe.

“My dick’s jealous of my fingers right now.” His words were naughty and delicious.

I squirmed against him, bending my legs so I could shamelessly meet every thrust. I was wetter than I’d thought possible.

“I’m going to come,” I whimpered, wanting to hold back.

“That’s the idea.”

“I don’t want to…not like this.”

He lifted off me, his lips twitching slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen again…and again…and again. You’re good for it.” He kept repeating the word ‘again’ between hot, warm kisses against my neck, running his stubbly face against my skin when I came. And did I ever climax…screaming out his name in frenzied euphoria, letting out years of frustration. I’d found my own personal fountain of youth.

It took me a while to calm down from my orgasm. When I did, he was smiling, staring at me with that sexy smirk and blazing gold eyes with hints of green.

“How long has it been, Jessie?”

“Fifteen years,” I said honestly.

His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding?”

“No.”

“Why so long?”

“It was a choice I made at the time.”

“I guess you’re owed a lot of orgasms and I’m just the man for the job.” He put his forehead against mine. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Why? Do you like it that way?” I managed to choke out.

“Oh, baby, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

I took a deep breath. “Damien, you’ve been open with me about how you feel even if it was in the form of naughty flirts. I want to be honest with you now. I was scared, but I need to share my truth with you before we do this.”

“I’m listening, although I hope you make it fast.”

I looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to falter by gazing upon his face. “I fantasised about this moment many times. I’m extremely attracted to you and I’ve been thinking about you since our first dance too.” I looked at him, tousling his hair. “I guess I do fetish you.”

He let out a slow breath. “Thank you for that. I fetish you too, baby.”

He entered me then, his hard shaft penetrating my slick folds, filling me as I’d never been filled. He thrust into me, punctuating each movement with a deep growl. He lifted my leg and slung it over his hip as he plunged deeper. I arched my back, screaming out his name.

“Oh, God, Damien,” I said in a muffled, choked voice that sounded foreign to me. Perhaps because I’d never heard it.

He buried his face in my neck, caressing me with those soft lips of his. The heat of his breath, the delicious scent of him, the slickness of our bodies was heaven on earth. The unrelenting thrusts perpetrated by those strong sex lines held me in a trance. Then I gave into it completely and felt my body climax harder than I ever had. When I opened my eyes, he was still gliding into me, head reared up, hair damp and face contorted in exquisite pleasure.

“Jessie,” he whispered.

Was there anything as mesmerising as the sight of a man coming? Especially this man.

He fell against me and we were both breathing heavily. His finger trailed across one cheek while he kissed the other. There was something exceptionally tender in that touch. He shifted off me, ending our connection. It was surprising how the loss of him affected me. Damien rested his head against my left breast.

“Are you listening to my heart?”

“Yes, it’s music to my ears.”

The shrill sound of his cell phone sliced through the heavy air. I cursed all technology.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my emergency line.” He pressed a soft kiss into my temple, brushing back my hair before getting up.

I slipped out of the bed and skipped to the bathroom so he could have privacy, and I could finally take that much needed shower. I blinked my eyes in the sumptuously appointed bathroom. His distracting foreplay had stolen my mind, so I hadn’t paid much attention to the hotel room. The bathroom was no exception—vintage and modern at the same time. The executive shower and claw-foot tub should have clashed on some level, but they totally worked here. The modern earth-toned, glass tiles complimented old-fashioned checkerboard marble floors and a sparkling crystal chandelier created a breathtaking focal point. I stared in the mirror at my naked self, not recognising the girl who stood before me. Chapped lips, messy hair and a satisfied smile greeted me.

Did I just have hot, crazy, monkey sex with a gorgeous, much younger, ex-stripper billionaire? Yes, I did
. “That was this girl, right here,” I said, pointing to myself. Then I did a little jig one should not do clothed, much less naked.
I did it
! I squealed to myself for far longer than necessary. The crazy thing was…I was bursting with energy. I’d just run harder than I ever had, and got some major, long over-due action thanks to some very strong sex vex muscles. I should have had trouble just walking around, but I felt like running again…or doing other kinds of marathons.
Is sex the answer to staying young?

I turned on the water, feeling a little disappointed at not trying out the tub. The shower was very nice with its mosaic tiles and extremely high ceiling, although it was a bit intimidating with the million buttons. I just wanted hot and cold, but this shower looked like the command centre on a spaceship. I picked one and stood on the far side, praying I wouldn’t scald myself. Thankfully, the water was warm. I stepped under the spray, running my hands through my hair.

I started singing…couldn’t help it. I’m not the best singer, but I had a secret power most women did—I sounded like a rock star in the shower. Just no one else could hear me. Of course, there was only one song that fit the moment, Simon and Garfunkel’s
Mrs Robinson
. It took a second to realise I wasn’t singing alone. His voice was far too deep for the song. Its gruff yet sweet, bluesy cadence was capable of melting my panties off…if I’d been wearing any. The man sounded like Rodriguez.

He entered the shower, standing behind me. He ran his hands down my arms before embracing me and pulling me against his chest. “Great choice, Mrs Robinson,” he said.

I buried my face in my hands. “Oh, God, I can’t believe you heard that.”

“Did you really think I would let you take a shower alone? I thought someone as ecologically minded as you would understand the importance of water conservation.”

“Yes, you’re right. It’s crucial to our environment.”

“Keep singing. I love that song.” He kissed my shoulder and neck, licking away the drops of water there.

I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “You do? Wait, so you got my reference that first date?”

He tilted his head, arching an eyebrow. “You’re calling it a date now and not a business meeting?”

“We didn’t discuss much business, so yes. Answer my question. You understood what I meant when I said I was Mrs Robinson?”

He nibbled my ear. “I got it right away, Jessie. It was just too cute to hear you explain why we couldn’t have a relationship because of a movie from the 1960s.”

“In all fairness, it was a book first.”

He laughed, a deep throaty rumble I felt against my skin. “I stand corrected.” Damien whispered against my ear, “Let’s make our own story and not worry about role playing someone else’s.”

“I agree.”

“I have to tell you something though, and it may cause our first fight, so tell me if I should wait.”

My body stiffened. “What?”

“We didn’t use a condom. I’m sorry, I just didn’t think. I wanted you so badly.”

“Are you clean?” How could I be this stupid? I had lectured to my girls about safe sex forever, and here I was breaking every rule.

“Yes, I promise you I am. I’ve been tested recently. I just emailed the results to you.”

“Seriously?”

“You seem to have trust issues, and I don’t want to give you a reason to doubt me, so yes.”

“I’m clean too.”

“I’m not worried about you.”

“Why the hell aren’t you?”

“Because you just told me it’s been fifteen years, baby.”

Oh…that’s true.

“We do have the other issue of birth control.”

“We don’t have to worry about it.”

He exhaled deeply, signalling he’d been worried. “Thank God. What a relief.”

He ran his strong hands over my stomach then up my breasts, massaging me as he went. He grabbed the bottle of body wash and squirted some into his palm. His hands were slightly calloused, which was surprising, but I liked it. He washed me up and down, until I wanted him again. I turned around and put my arms around his neck, staring up at him.

His hands moved down to my waist. “Do you like the shower?”

“Yes, except it’s very complicated. I feel like you need a training manual to use it.”

“Let me give you a tutorial.” He flipped a button. “This is my favourite setting.” Warm water jetted from the walls in alternating bursts against our bodies as music piped through some hidden speakers—
About a Girl
. “Do you know who this is, Jessie?”

“You will never beat me when it comes to music. This is Nirvana.” It was appropriate because I was feeling some major nirvana.

“Impressive.”

More overhead jets came on, drenching us. I took the body wash from him and placed a generous amount on his chest then spread it down his strong arms. I let my hands roam shamelessly about his body, relishing the deep moan he rewarded me with. I ran my fingers all over his hard muscles and traced his tattoo. There, buried deep in the black scroll pattern, I noticed a few letters. They were tiny, in flourishing script, like a secret message hidden there. It was almost like looking at one of those pictures in another picture. He grabbed my wrist so quickly, I backed away. He stared at me, but there was no anger. His face held sorrow for a brief moment before a comforting smile emerged.